


A thousand

by Ever-so-reylo (Ever_So_Reylo)



Series: The Rise of Skywalker One Shots [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Allies, BACKFLIPS, Canon Compliant, Canon Universe, Enemies to Lovers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Inappropriate Use of the Force, Jakku, Non-Linear Narrative, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker Trailer, Tatooine (Star Wars)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 08:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18495184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ever_So_Reylo/pseuds/Ever-so-reylo
Summary: “I’m going to kill you, now.”The problem is—really, the crux of all of Rey’s problems at the moment—he actually thinks he means it.“Sounds good.” Her voice is breathy, a little raspy. Maybe from the run. Maybe not. “I’m guessing you were out of missiles?”In response, he turns on his saber and charges at her.Or:Hi, last Friday I saw the teaser trailer for The Rise of Skywalker and my heart has been beating out of my chest ever since.





	A thousand

**Author's Note:**

> GUYS I AM SO SORRY I JUST HAD TO GET THIS TRASH OUT OF MY CHEST I PROMISE I'M WORKING ON HoF NOW 💕(sorry, this is unbetad...)

 

 

“Why do you always cut off our bond?” she asks him while they’re facing each other, grains from the orange sands of Tatooine glued to the sweat heating their skin. 

“Fuck you,” he grits out before charging at her.

 

…

 

For years, she wonders what her first words to him should be.

It’s an odd, silly thought to dwell on—Rey has no certainty that they will ever meet again, after all—so she tries her best not to invest it with significance it likely does not hold.

Still, “ _You were wrong,”_ sounds like it might be a reasonable choice. Or, _“I was right.”_   _“Come home. The Resistance needs you,”_ would be too risky, but maybe she could tell him the simple truth:  _“I know we used to be in each other’s head, but I am no longer as I once was. What about you?”_

Rey never settles on any of these, but that is just as well. Because when she finds herself pinned under Kylo Ren in the cockpit of his Silencer, right after cutting through inches of durasteel with a slash of her saber, the only thing she can think of doing is kissing him.

 

...

 

At first, it’s just a tugging feeling. A hum at the base of her neck, a ripple of warmth as the bond thrums and vibrates with pleasure. That pull inside her is always there, but it’s usually a dull, shriveled, one-sided stump. And yet it tightens almost unbearably the second he breaches the atmosphere of Tatooine, and Rey’s breath deepens, her skin cools under the painful, relentless sun, and she lets herself feel— _feel it, just feel it here, washing over her_ —for a short moment. 

Then she draws her saber, and even though her muscles protest, even though her body doesn’t understand, she begins to run in the opposite direction of Kylo Ren. 

  

...

 

She doesn’t, of course. Kiss him. His gloved hand is pressed against her windpipe and reaching up would not be advisable, as she would immediately choke. 

Instead she holds his gaze as she bites her lower lip, and he pushes away from her in an abrupt movement, as if scorched and burned by her skin.

 

...

 

In the Tatooine light, bright and unforgiving, he doesn’t look three years older.  He _does_ look a little different, though—harsher, with his hair pulled back and a few new scars and _that_ expression in his eyes.

In the end she doesn’t need to say anything—because his jaw works and his teeth clench and he tells her:

“I’m going to kill you, now.”

The problem is—really, the crux of _all_ of Rey’s problems at the moment—he actually _thinks_ he means it.

“Sounds good.” Her voice is breathy, a little raspy. Maybe from the run. Maybe not. “I’m guessing you were out of missiles?”

In response, he turns on his saber and charges at her. 

 

...

 

He doesn’t stop swinging when she screams his father’s name at him, or Snoke’s; he continues to thrust when she ducks and yells about Darth Vader, about the Emperor, about wanting to tell him the truth; he doesn’t pause, though he _does_ hesitate very briefly, when Rey mentions his mother. 

But then he swipes at her again, and Rey begins to think that perhaps she was wrong.

 

…

 

When the General calls Rey inside her quarters, Rey has to keep herself from gawking around the small, uncluttered room. In her limited experience, generals’ living spaces should be larger than the ones occupied by former scavengers turned sort-of-but-not-quite-Jedis. 

Especially if the generals used to be princesses. 

“There has been an awakening,” Leia says without turning around, eyes fixed on something round and shiny in her hand.

“An awakening?”

“In the Force. Have you felt it?”

Rey shakes her head. And then notices that Leia is still not looking at her. “No, I have not.”

“What do you know about Lord Vader?”

The first thing that comes to mind— _Ben’s grandfather_ —seems like an unwise reply. So Rey just says, “I know of the Sith. Of the dark side. I know of him and Luke.” _And you, General._

“Good.” Leia nods, and turns around. The object inside her hand, it’s a large golden medallion. Leia continues to caress it with her thumb. “And what do you know about Darth Sidious?”

Not enough, as it turns out.

 

…

 

Some nights, when Rey is not tired from the training and the studying and the reading and the worrying and the missing and the not wanting to _feel_ and the pretending—some nights, but only a _few_ nights, when she takes the leather band that Rose sewed for her off her upper arm, some nights—just _some_ nights, she touches the skin underneath the band, and feels the outline of her scar. 

And she lets herself remember. 

 

…

 

She sees him again, and again; on Dantooine, in a forest so lush and ripe Rey almost can’t smell the flesh scorched by the Stormtroopers' blasters; on Glee Anson, during the tail end of a tropical storm.

”Why do you always cut the bond?” she asks as she swings her saber over her head. “Why do you keep me—” a lunge that almost has him flat on the ground “— _out_.”

“Because I hate you,” he spits through gritted teeth, before regaining the advantage.

 

… 

 

She sees him again, and again, and again. She fights him again, and again, and again.

And then, one night, he comes to her and his lightsaber is limp at his side.

He stares at her, and he looks all the things he did before—but also tired. And hesitant.

“I have a plan,” he says.

 

…

 

Leia claims that she often sees Luke. That he speaks to her of a past faraway—of generations long gone, of before they were children growing up a galaxy apart, of things they never even knew. That he speaks to her of Rey, of her past and her future, of her fight and of other _things_.

Rey never sees or hears Luke, and she’s not sure she’s too upset about it.

 

…

 

Finn tells her that she is crazy. _So_ crazy. Definitely crazy.

Poe wants Rey to spy on Kylo Ren, provide information on his location, and then go kill him and annihilate the rest of the Order with their fleet of about four and half X-wings. 

Rose lists dozens of reasons why this is a terrible idea, and presses closer to Finn when he mutters  _'batshit crazy’_ one last time.

Janna arches one eyebrow, and leans back against the wall of the conference room, studying Rey suspiciously.

The General doesn’t say anything—she just nods in a strange way, like the Supreme Leader reaching out to Rey and offering an alliance against a common enemy is simultaneously not a big deal and everything she’s ever wanted.

Chewie… As usual, Chewie knows what ask.

_And what happens after you’ve killed Darth Sidious? With the First Order, and with Kylo Ren?_

Rey decides that it’s a valid question.

 

…

 

“Do you just—turn around, after? And kill me, and my friends?”

His eyes widen for a moment—one so short, she might have conjured it in her head. 

“No,” he pushes out, and he even _sounds_ confused.

“But it will be like after Snoke. In his throne room.” Rey worries at her lip. “Why would it be different?”

His nostrils flare. “Like when you left me for dead?”

“You were killing my _friends_. Your _mother_.”

They hold gazes for a moment, and then he turns to his side, and the base of his jaw is working. 

“I won’t betray you,” he grits out, offended. Like she should have known.

Rey—Rey is probably stupid, but she is inclined to believe him. “How do I know? That you won’t take the Red Army and the Stormtroopers and the new Starkiller and come after—“

“Because it’s all _his_.” Kylo takes a step forward, and leans into her. Rey can see now that there are new lines around his eyes. “The technology, and the people, the fucking _ideas_. He left it all there for Vader, and then for Snoke—and now for _me_. He manipulated us to get what he wanted, and I can’t—” He stops abruptly, and inhales sharply before squaring his shoulders. “I don’t want to be like them. And I don’t want to be like  _him_. Nor any of the thousands who came before.”

Kylo Ren may deceive himself a lot, but lying to Rey… it might be beyond his capabilities.  

That night is one of those nights, in which Rey traces her scar and thinks of what could have been.

 

…

 

He says that if they pool their powers the amplification will be exponential. 

She says that she is not sure what exponential means, though half-way through his explanation she realizes that she is familiar with the concept, and that she was just lacking the word for it.

He is good at it, better than all of Rey’s friends and acquaintances, for sure. At putting her thoughts into manageable forms. 

So, the plan—he says that if they pool their powers the amplification will be exponential and they might have a chance, and Rey chooses to believe him. She chooses to try.

“You have to open up,” he tells her, frustrated, hours after they have begun to try to merge, two focal points in the Force attempting to coalesce. His cloak and tunic are discarded, and he’s down to a black short-sleeved shirt. His arms are large, covered in white scars; the thin cotton is drenched, and his smell is—she could drown in it. Happily so. “You have to let the Force flow through you. Reach out to me.”

“ _You_ are the one who insists on keeping the bond closed.” There is sweat dripping in her eyes, and she wipes it with the back of her hand. “Why do you do that, anyway?’ 

“Because I want to. Focus.” 

“I am focusing, you damn—”

“Focus _harder_.”

“I can’t—I just _can’t_ zero in on you.” Her mouth is dry and pasty. “Maybe if we touch at the same time?” she offers.

He stiffens, an immediately shakes his head. “No. Keep trying.”

 

…

 

“There isn’t much time left,” Leia says gently, managing not to sound as worried as Rey knows her to be.

“I know. It’s just…” Rey lets her uneaten bread roll fall back on her plate. “It’s just not working. But we’ll meet again soon, on Jakku this time, and maybe a Force nexus will…” 

She shrugs. Maybe it won’t change anything. Maybe the galaxy is doomed—maybe _Rey_ is dooming the galaxy, because she is not good enough. Not strong enough.

“I trust you.” Leia smiles, and Rey wishes she didn’t. Trust her, that is. “Rey, does Ben ever… Does he ever speak of…”

Leia doesn’t continue. Which is just as well, because she doesn’t need to.

“No.” Rey covers the General's hand with her palm. “But he doesn’t speak of anyone.”

 

…

 

“Open,” he hisses out. “You have to _control_ the Force—wield it, not _nudge_ it in my direction!”

Rey clenches her jaw. “ _This_ usually works for me. _This_ is how _I_ do it.”

“Then you’re doing it wrong.”

“No—This is what the texts said, what Luke taught me to—”

“Fuck Skywalker. He clearly had no idea how to do _this_.”

Kylo takes an angry step back, and for a moment Rey thinks that he’ll kick his helmet; he'll shatter it against the rocky walls of the cave and break it in a million pieces, for foolish scavengers who wander in the Goazon Badlands to stumble upon. In another life, that could have been Rey. In another life, Darth Sidious would have been gone for real, properly taken care of by these useless Skywalker men, and Luke wouldn’t have tried to kill his nephew, and Ben Solo and Rey would never have met in a forest on Takodana. 

It’s a curiously wistful thought to entertain.

Kylo takes a deep breath, as if to calm down. In the past few weeks, he has seemed remarkably more in control than three years earlier. Rey couldn’t help but notice. 

“Again. Try to merge the Force with—”

“No.” She shakes her head, and meets his gaze when he frowns. “It’s not working. It won’t work like this. It’s draining, and useless, and I’m tired. We’ll be depleted by the time we face him, if we continue like this.” 

Kylo stares at her for a long moment before nodding once, tightly. “Okay.” He doesn’t seem angry, or disappointed. Remarkably understanding, in fact. “I’ll leave for the unknown regions tomorrow.”

Rey nods. “I’ll come with you, of course.”

“No.” He bends down to retrieve his gloves from the ground, and begins to put them back on.

“What do you mean, no?”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“He is—You can’t go _alone_. He’s infinitely stronger than you and I are, but we can—”

“No.” He’s already halfway to the entrance of the cave. Rey goggles at his back for a handful of seconds before jogging to catch up.

“ _Why?_ ”

“This is not your fight, Rey.”

“But it is, it's as much mine as—”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“Ben, I—”

Rey leans forward, and grabs his naked hand to stop him from leaving; all of a sudden everything— _everything_ —changes.  

 

…

 

It’s _his_ power, and _her_ power, but it just feels like _theirs_. In flux, gliding through them, and if Rey was ever worried that he might use it against her… He could no more harm her than he could hurt himself.

Then again, Kylo Ren is very good at hurting himself.

A shiver runs up her spine. Her eyes slide out of focus, and she is—she is inside herself, and she is inside him, and there’s an odd heat sweeping through her, a dark curl making her nerve endings tingle, and she really didn’t… no. _No_.

“I think...” Her mouth is dry. Or maybe his. Their. “I think I haven’t gotten to this chapter in the Jedi texts, yet,” she slurs.

“You wouldn’t have found it.” Kylo’s pupils are blown black. “I think this is…” He stops. Shakes his head. “Very unusual.”

_But not unexpected?_

**I wasn’t sure.**

He’s in her head. His voice. There’s no reason to talk, now. 

_Is this it, then? Our powers, together?_

Rey feels like she could lift planets. Like she could pluck Palpatine’s fleet out of hyperspace, ship by ship, with a simple flex of her mind; crush each one within the palm of her hand, like sandstone. Thousands of generations before them couldn’t win this war, but Rey and Kylo—they will make their enemies crumble, together. Rey can _feel_ it.

**Yes.** He licks his lips. **Yes.**

They will build something better. They will _be_ better. There are words swirling in his head— ** _p_ _ **ea** ce is a lie, there is only passion_**—and Rey knows, without having ever read it, that they belong to the Code of the Sith.

_I will give you both. I will give you peace, too._ “You should have let me touch you weeks ago. Years.”

**Maybe.** He means _no_ **. But this is dangerous.**

She knows all that he wants, because she wants it, too. And what he wants right now is to see her again like she was on the Supremacy, her hair down and her eyes bright.

_Of course. Here._

She could undo it herself. But Rey can tell that he’d rather be the one, so she takes one of his large hands and guides it to her nape, with a detour to her mouth to nip at a white scar on his index finger, to press a kiss into his palm. 

_So big._

**Rey.**

They are so tangled together, their minds, she can feel his pleasure and his frustration as he fumbles to take down her buns. His kiss is deep and unpracticed, but he’s licking into her mouth, and she is almost _scared_ by how much he likes the way she smells and tastes. 

He nuzzles his nose in the hollow of her throat, and then turns her around, watching the golden-brown waves ripple down her back, spill through his fingers. His “Oh” sounds too soft for Kylo Ren; his lips too swollen against her temple.

**I like it, longer. You’ll keep it long.**

Rey leans her palms against the cool rock, and lets him struggle with the bindings of her tunic.

“If you want.” It seems like a very small concession. And she’ll ask so much more of him. So she can let him play with her breasts as long as he likes—a long, _long_ time—and feel her—his— _their_ heads start to spin when she closes her hand around the base of him and strokes her fist up and down. It’s like a dream, and too real at the same time. The tension, the pleasure coiling hot at the base of her stomach—it could be his, or hers. When he puts his hand on her lower back to hold her still and push inside her, she can feel it all—the wet heat, the delicious friction, the pinching pain that makes it hard to breath— _too big too big too... oh. Oh._ —the sense of being about to come like an avalanche, a dam breaking too soon.

The bond flows, it vibrates, and she can see it through his eyes—her hole stretched too tight around him, and his fascination with it as he traces her opening, the seams straining, and it’s just this side of too much. A little obscene.

**We will do this a lot.** His voice squeezes inside Rey’s blood; floods her cunt. **You will have to get used to me.**

Rey doesn’t know where he ends and she begins. So she just nods, and leans her forehead against the back of her hands.

 

…

 

It’s Kylo who decides to take the Falcon, because—because. Rey is not sure, but she finds that she trusts his judgement. And that she might even be curious to see him in Han’s seat.

She makes her way down the ramp after checking the navigation systems, and raises her voice to make sure he can hear her. “If we head out now, we’ll be there in about fifty parsecs.” 

Kylo doesn’t answer, but she can feel his acknowledgment through the bond. It’s cracked open now, if just barely, and after all the years—it’s like having regained the use of a limb, for Rey. It’s like oxygen, like sunlight after months of deep space travel.

How it feels to _him_ , Rey cannot claim to know.

“You ready?”

**Yes** , he thinks at her, but he doesn’t make to move. So Rey steps closer and comes to stand beside him, taking a few minutes to study his profile.

“Why did you block it, all this time? The bond?” she asks before knowing that she would. 

**Rey.** Kylo doesn’t look at her. Instead, his eyes remain fixed on the looping hills, taking in the wavy sands of Jakku. The wind blows through his robes and ruffles his hair.  ** Do you not know, that you were always in my mind? **

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me [on Twitter! 💕](https://twitter.com/EverSoReylo)


End file.
